40 Things I Love About You
by Cassie Bones
Summary: For the Castle Summer Hiatus Ficathon 2015. Based on a poem I saw on Tumblr by Tumblr user Ivvicus. Will consist of 40 chapters. Rated T for now but may become M later. Unrelated one-shots in no chronological order. Stand-alone. Caskett. Alexis/OC. "I am in love with your tongue."
1. I am in love with your voice

**40 Things I Love About You**

" _ **I'm in love with your voice"**_

He finds out she can sing on their first night together, when he wakes up at around three AM and she's not there. He panics for only a second before he hears her voice floating through his bedroom, as if amplified. There's running water in the background and he smiles when he realizes that she's taking a shower.

He stands and stretches his pleasantly sore limbs before padding in the direction of his private ensuite. Kate is standing in his plate-glass shower, a cloud of steam surrounding her, the sound of cascading water and her own melodious tune drowning out the sound of the door opening and closing as Castle enters the bathroom. He stands in the center, the soles of his feet warmed by the heated tiles and the rest of his body from the sound of her voice.

Just over a year ago, he'd heard her sing for the first—and, up until this moment, only—time. It was when Montgomery was still alive, just after Castle bought the bar that the team would inevitably spend their time—and his money—at following dozens of solved homicides. The song had been 'Piano Man' by Billy Joel and Kate's voice has shook with her probable embarrassment at the time, but he remembered thinking that she could carry a tune pretty well.

What an understatement.

Now, as she sings Sara Bareilles's 'Love Song'—and he never pegged her as a fan of Sara Bareilles—her voice sounds like that of an angel. She hits every single note and never loses beat as she bops her head and simultaneously rubs shampoo into her scalp. Her hips shake just the tiniest bit and he grins, finally taking his first step in her direction. If she notices his presence, she doesn't show it, because she doesn't even look his way until he's sliding in behind her and pressing kisses to her soapy shoulders. Then, she quiets and smiles up at him, her eyes shining in the low lighting of the bathroom.

"Hey," he greets, his arms wrapping tightly around her waist.

"Hi," she whispers back, shyly. "I'm sorry," she adds, when he presses a wet kiss to her equally wet lips; "did I wake you?"

"Yes," he says honestly, his grin widening. "But in the best way possible. You have a lovely singing voice."

He swears he can see her blush and it's not from the overwhelming heat of the water they're under. He's tempted to turn it down a notch but she seems comfortable like this—besides, he doesn't want to let go of her right now.

"Thank you," she says, looking down.

"Do you sing a lot?" he asks, coaxing her into turning around to face him. He tries not to wince at the bruises he can see running up and down her body; tries not to think about the fact that they've likely been there since she first showed up on his doorstep, and all they could do was—

"No," she says, breaking him from his thoughts. "I…I used to, but I…I haven't done it in a while."

"Why not?" Castle asks, running his hands up and down her sides as gently as possible, lest he cause her any more unnecessary pain.

Kate shrugs. "I used to do it all the time, but only when I was…" she trails off and looks away again. Castle tucks one finger under her chin to bring her gaze back to his.

"When you were…?" he urges.

"Happy," she says, finally, smiling a little sadly. "When I was very, very happy. My mother would know about every single crush I had, about every good grade or new friend I made, just from my singing. She'd walk by my room, hear it, then pop her head in and asked me what the good news was. I guess it's just a habit I never broke. Even after…" She trails off and bites her lip, but doesn't look away again. Castle understands and presses a soft kiss to her lips.

When he pulls back, he has the infuriatingly cocky grin on his face. "So that means you're happy, then?" he asks. "Very, _very_ happy?" Kate laughs and slaps at his chest, but he only pulls her in tighter and nips at her neck, making her moan.

"Incredibly happy," she gasps, grabbing his shoulders as she fought to stay upright despite his knee-weakening ministrations on her pulse point. She's turning to jelly under his hands and mouth and he's barely even touched her. Castle unlatches from her throat to nuzzle her ear with his nose, and whispers, "I love your voice."


	2. I am in love with your personality

**Pairing: Beca/Alexis (Becalexis)**

" _I'm in love with your personality"_

"Oh my God! Beca, look! It's Daenerys!" Alexis squealed, squeezing her girlfriend's hand as they walked through the Javits Center. It was late May and time for the annual Book Con in New York City's most famous convention center. Beca had gotten them both tickets to celebrate their graduation from Columbia and Alexis was like a little girl, walking around with big, curious blue eyes and smile that was larger than life.

And Beca found her nerdiness absolutely adorable. She laughed as Alexis dragged her to the young woman dressed as the Khaleesi of Dothrak (and the rightful Queen of Westeros, according to Alexis, who devoured those books like M by the handful). "Can we take a picture with you?" she asked the woman shyly, and Daenerys gave them a kind smile.

"Sure," she said and Alexis squeaked, tugging Beca's arm to get her into position. The girls positioned themselves on either side of the pseudo-Dany and Alexis pulled out her iPhone, holding it in front of them for the picture.

"Say 'Khaleesi!'" she said in order to get them to smile. They repeated after her and snapped the picture, laughing. "My parents are gonna love this!" She gushed, looking at the picture. "So is RJ," she added, turning to smile at Beca.

"Lex," Beca laughed, "RJ is one; I'm, like, 99% positive that he doesn't even know who Khaleesi is."

"Oh, trust me," Alexis said, sliding her phone into her pocket as she reclaimed her girlfriend's hand and gave a tiny wave to the queen, who waved back. "With Kate and my dad raising him, he'll know her better than the frickin' Easter Bunny."

Beca laughed at that, pulling Alexis against her body and slinging her arms around the shorter girl's waist. "I love you, ya big nerd."

Alexis beamed at that and turned into her body, her arms wrapping around Beca's neck and her hands burying themselves in her hair. "I love you, too, Bec," she said, softly before leaning up on her tiptoes to press their lips together. Beca smiled into the kiss and laughed against Alexis's lips as they heard the applause all around them.

"Why are they clapping?" she asked Alexis.

"I guess they've been waiting a long time to see Margery Tyrell kiss Sansa Stark."

 **I was eager to write Alexis with my OC. For anybody who is unfamiliar with Beca Sterling, the backstory is that she met Alexis at a college party and the two became fast friends. Beca has always been out as a lesbian but Alexis was adamant about being straight until she realized that she was falling for her best friend. The two kissed after they ran into Beca's jealous ex and the relationship carried on from there.**

 **Beca is Hispanic (in my mind she's Mexican-mixed, like me) with dark wavy hair, olive skin, green eyes, and her body is a bit on the heavier side. She has a tattoo of intertwined female signs on her chest. And, as said in the story, she is taller than Alexis and they are in love because one of my dreams for this show is a queer Alexis (because there are unbelievably no queer main characters in this show that takes place in New York).**

 **Also, note that Alexis is not gay; she's either bi or pan or even demi.**

 **This will [probably] be the last author's note for this story.**


	3. I am in love with your face

" _ **I am in love with your face."**_

Richard Castle isn't ashamed to admit that the first thing he noticed about Detective Kate Beckett were her good looks. You'd have to be blind _not_ to notice the way her eyes gleamed with intelligence and constant challenge, the way her perfect, full lips quirked up or down depending on her mood, though her face was perpetually this side of neutral. And that little mole on her jaw…from the first moment he saw it, he wanted to run his lips over it en route to her ear and whisper all the naughty thoughts that ran through his mind at the sight of her.

She was like Pygmalion's statue, sculpted to perfection to the point where even _he_ fell in love with his creation. Castle had wondered, somewhat briefly, if God was looking down at her like a young boy with a crush, his heart hammering away in his godly chest.

After hearing about her mother's murder, however, Castle decided that God probably wasn't even paying attention to Kate Beckett at all for, if he had been, she would be living happily as a lawyer, making phone calls and having dinner with her perfectly healthy—and _living_ —mother. Instead, she was miserable and grumpy and closed off. But her face was still as gorgeous as ever and he tried his hardest to make it brighten with every day that passed in her company.

He would tell her jokes to make that lovely grin appear on her face, make her eyes roll in mock-annoyance, her cute little nose twitch as he told her a nauseating pun he'd just come up with about their latest body. He watched her brush her fingers lightly over that little birthmark on her jaw when she thought nobody was looking, as if she were suddenly self-conscious about it. And he wanted to tell her that there was no need to be, because it was just another part of her unassailable beauty.

He quickly fell in love with the way her entire face scrunched up when she was thinking hard (that little squiggle between her eyes made him constantly want to kiss it away) and then smoothed over when she reached a solution—so often at the same time as him.

The first time he saw her cry, his heart cracked with every tear that fell. Watching the mascara she must have carefully applied just that morning run with her tears made it worse. He tried to comfort her as best as he could, tried to stop the quiver of her lower lip, the sniffles that shook her nose, the redness that came over her face as her eyes and lips and nose became puffy with the saltiness. Eventually, he had to let her go so she could clean herself up and brush herself off, but then she came back out and he was floored.

It was also the first time he'd seen Beckett without any makeup on and he could feel the stutter of his heart as he took in the bare skin. There were dots and a blackhead or two on her chin, her nose was a little shiny and visible bags under her eyes (swollen by the recent tears no doubt) and she had a few wrinkles, probably caused by the stress of her job but…she was still as gorgeous as he'd ever seen her. She was still his Beckett.

He still remembers the look she gave him—no different than most of the looks she gave him—as he stared at her, awestruck. She'd glared at him, thinking he was shocked or disgusted or _something that he most definitely was not_ and said, "What? You've never seen a woman without her makeup on before?" and he'd snapped out of it.

Of course he'd seen women without makeup. He practically grew up in dressing rooms, watching as his mother and her friends had their faces put on for them. He'd been married twice and even had a teenage daughter, for goodness sake! He'd seen _many_ women without their Maybelline masks, but none of them could even hold a candle to Beckett's natural beauty. Or maybe it was just him; maybe it was just because he was already so deeply and fathomlessly in love with her that she could lose all her teeth, be covered in warts, and have a hooked witch nose and he'd still think she was God's greatest creation.

It was at that moment that Richard Castle realized that he was in love with Kate Beckett…and he didn't even want to fight it.

But he did, of course. He fought it for years. Battled through it when Demming came alone, then _Doctor_ Josh Davidson sweeped her off her feet. He tried to lose himself in Gina, but that fell apart all too quickly and—if he's honest with himself—predictably. He stopped fighting it as they sat on a couch in Los Angeles, their eyes locked, his scanning over her face for the millionth time, committing every last detail to memory. He realized that fighting whatever this was between them was never going to work; it would only make him miserable.

He'd been about to go for it when she broke away from him, retreated to her room, placing a thick door between them. He'd been crushed but he promised himself he wouldn't push her. But that night he dreamed of her face, like he had so many nights before even as he denied himself the waking pleasure of going after her. His subconscious always pushed those beautiful features to the center of every dream.

That night, he didn't mind in the least.

When she got shot, he finally told her how he felt because he didn't want her to die not knowing. Didn't want to lose her and never tell how much he care for her. Then she lived and left for three months, no calls or contact whatsoever and he'd all but given up. Even as her face plagued his every thought and dream.

He forgave her easily when she came back, when she gave him that look—the one where her eyes begged and said sorry a billion times without her having to even speak a word. He still loved her and decided that he could wait.

He could still kick himself for that. For breaking his promise to himself and to her. But after that bombing incident…

He prided himself on the fact that he knew when Beckett was lying and when she was telling the truth, but somehow he'd allowed her to lie to him for months. To let him believe that she had no idea how he felt about her because she "didn't remember." It was all bullshit and it hurt like hell to know that she'd lied to him about the most important thing in their lives. He didn't care how much of a hypocrite that made him considering his own secrets; his kept her life safe while hers just broke his heart.

Jacinda's face wasn't nearly as pretty as Kate's and her personality could have used some work as well, but she was a distraction from the pain in his heart. For too long, he couldn't even look at Kate's beautiful face, but it was all he saw when the spunky flight attendant kissed him.

Love was a bitch.

"Castle." Kate's voice broke him from his thoughts as they lay in bed. It was a week past their first night together and he'd insisted that they celebrate by not leaving their bed for the entire day. "Staring is creepy." He hadn't even realized he was doing it; that's how far gone he was.

"Sorry," he whispered, grinning like a fool. Kate peeked and eye open and quirked her lips into an amused frown (how the hell does she do that?)

"No, you're not," she mumbled sleepily and his smile widened.

"No," he agreed, "I'm not." He leaned forward and press his lips to hers, bringing one hand up to cup her smooth cheek. He could feel that frown turn upwards against his smile. Both of her hands rose to cup his jaw, her thumb rubbing over the scruff that had appeared after one day of not shaving.

She hummed against his lips. "I like your face," she said and he snorted, leaning back in for another sip from her mouth.

 _And I love yours_ , he thought cheekily as he pulled her body against his. _So much, Kate. So damn much._


	4. I am in love with your smile

**Paring: Becalexis**

" _ **I am in love with your smile"**_

They met at some college party that Beca barely remembers, for the most part. The only thing—or, rather, _person_ —she recalls is Alexis Harper Castle, who'd been curled up on the couch, a plastic cup in one hand and her iPhone in the other. Her perfectly sculpted eyebrows were knotted together, adorably, and her nose crinkled as she read something on the screen. Beca was standing with a couple of her guy friends, drinking the obviously spoke Coke and making plans to score some weed (okay, _they_ were making the plans and badgering her into joining them, which she wholeheartedly denied) and play video games when she caught sight of the redhead on that old stained brown couch of the host, Joey Fischer, an off-campus dweller of Columbia U.

Beca was there studying Fiction (and would later joke how it was fate that she would meet Richard Castle's daughter at a party for the same college) and already had five half-finished manuscripts back at her dorm. She learned, after sitting next to the redhead, that she was cautiously studying Criminal Justice and Literature, but had no idea which she'd rather make a career in.

"I'm kind of an overachiever," Alexis had told her, smiling shyly down at the cup in her hand. Something about that smile—which was, admittedly, completely adorable—made something inside Beca flutter (but she refused to believe it was any kind of winged insect, because that was too cliché even for a writer.) She'd kept her cool, though, and leaned back with her own spiked drink, slung her arm over the back of the couch and took a sip.

"What a coincidence," she'd purred; "so am I."

Alexis's eyes had widened comically at that and the smile had dropped from her face, but didn't exactly become a frown. Instead it was more like an 'O' of surprise. "Oh," she said, then her eyes widened further. " _Oh_ …" Her face took on a somewhat alarming shade of crimson. "I'm…I hope you didn't think I was…I mean I…I'm not…into…girls…?" Beca had to bite her lip to keep from pointing out the delayed question in her flustered statement, as well as her snort at the automatic assumption that she was even _interested_ in her that way.

Well, she was, but…Alexis didn't know that. And one shouldn't just assume things.

"Relax, red," she'd laughed instead, "it's not like that. I mean…yeah, I'm a lesbian, but you don't have to worry about me hitting on you. Get over yourself."

Alexis blushed ever further and Beca seriously worried that not enough blood was getting to her heart and possibly no air was getting to her lungs. "I'm so sorry!" Alexis exclaimed. "I didn't mean to insinuate—I mean, I didn't mean to insult you! I don't usually say things like that. I—"

"Whoa," Beca said, placing a calming hand on the other girl's shoulder. "Take a breath, ginger; it's cool. No harm done." She offered Alexis a warm smile and the girl gave a shy grin in return, her cheeks still pink. Beca chuckled. "I have to admit, though," she said, "you do have a pretty nice smile." The crimson was back, but it was accompanied by an even larger grin on the redhead's face. This one was beaming and practically stole Beca's breath away—oh god, she was doomed to write romance, wasn't she? She shook it off though and struck up a conversation about their studies.

And so started their friendship, which soon blossomed into much more.

They spent most of their weekends together, going to see movies, eating out at places they could both afford (which, for Beca, wasn't too much), and waiting in line at Magnolia (often Beca's idea, though Alexis insisted that they eat an actual meal before indulging in dessert). Sometimes they stayed in and watched movies in Beca's dorm or made the trek out to Broome Street and commandeered the living room. Beca spent at least half of her time at the loft taking notes from Mr. Castle about how to stay focused on your manuscript while Alexis and Mrs. Castle snickered in the background.

At one point they started holding hands while they walked through the city. Beca is aware that Alexis is the one who started it ("So we don't lose each other in a sea of tourists.") but neither of them ever seemed to want to break the contact when the streets cleared and so their fingers usually went in the opposite direction and interlocked.

When this happened, Beca was overtly aware, and her stomach fluttered like it had that very first time when she noticed the corners of Alexis's lips turning up again. She was sure she'd even felt the redhead squeeze her hand a few times and it made her heart skip a beat (and it caused her to finally give in and write her first romance—which she completed.)

About four months after their initial meeting, Beca realized something with a bit of a start. When they watched movies now, either in public or in private, Alexis had a penchant for cuddling up against her side. Beca couldn't really call this strange, because she'd done this with other straight friends and even guy friends who didn't try to make a move on her. But the way Alexis did it…

It was like the whole of her tiny body was pressed to Beca's much taller frame—Beca, while having received her Mexican father's dark complexion and jet black curls, had inherited her Swedish mother's tall stature and stood at approximately 5'11—and her head was tucked just beneath Beca's chin. Usually this meant that Beca had nowhere else to place her arms than around Alexis's waist, which the redhead didn't seem to mind in the least. Sometimes, Beca even caught herself inhaling deeply and took in the sweet scent of Alexis's hair.

If they didn't end up falling asleep together on the couch (which resulted in them waking up wrapped up in each other come morning, and Alexis giving her a gorgeously rumpled sleepy smile), then Alexis would be the first to get up and tug on her friend's arm to help her up. Beca usually acted grumpy at this, pretending that she'd rather sleep on the couch than walk the fifty or so feet up to Alexis's bedroom, but she was really just trying to coax an amused smirk from her friend—were they still friends, she'd think as her heartrate picked up; or were they something more?

Alexis began to notice the changes in their relationship as well. She became increasingly excited to see Beca, both between classes at Columbia, and outside of school when they wouldn't just be killing time or working on assignments. She couldn't remember feeling this way about any of her other friends—not even Paige, who'd gone off to Stanford and rarely called anymore—but she was incredibly aware that she hadn't _not_ felt this way before…about Ashley. Her first love.

But, no, she couldn't be…she wasn't into girls. She'd made that abundantly clear to Beca the first night they met and Beca had understood, completely. Even teased her about making assumptions. Alexis had laughed, but inside had felt completely embarrassed at herself. She'd never liked girls before. Not like Beca did. Though she _did_ have somewhat of a girl crush on Kate when they'd first met (borne out of the fact that she actually challenged Alexis's father and was a strong, intelligent, independent woman that Alexis could look up to in her mother's absence.) But she'd never had _romantic feelings_ for any girl. Had she?

Alexis wracked her brain for memories or any kind of hint that might conclude to the contrary; might assure her that yes, she _did_ like girls, too. Maybe she was bisexual. Or demi-sexual. Pan-sexual? There were so many sexualities just coming to the surface that she had no idea which one fit her. What if she didn't even like boys at all? What if she only liked them because the media told her it was what was normal for a young girl? What if she didn't really know what she liked at all?

Alexis did her best to keep her personal identity crisis under wraps and away from her family and especially from Beca. She didn't let it get in the way of her friendship—and she vowed that she never would—but it constantly weighed on her mind whenever Beca wrapped her arms around the shorter girl while they watched movies or when they held hands walking down the street. It never felt weird to Alexis to act this way with her—though she'd never really done the same with her other friends—but it did feel…different.

But good different. Comfortable different. Different in a way that she didn't want to change or ruin it by bringing it up to the other girl. But now every brush of skin or large grin from the much taller Beca made her heart pump harder and sent shivers up her spine.

But she never mentioned it.

Not until about six months into their friendship when she was running to make a date with Beca at the Angelika for a double-feature (Pitch Perfect 1 & 2) for which she was horrendously late thanks to her ride being forestalled by her stepmother going into labor. She'd offered to break her date so she could be there for them in the hospital but her dad brushed her off and told her to go have fun. He'd call her when her baby brother was born.

So she went and she was late and had barely caught sight of Beca and started making apologies when suddenly the taller girl's lips were on hers and her hands were cupping Alexis's face. Initially, the redhead's eyes had opened in shock, but she soon melted into the kiss, moving her lips gently against her friend's even as she wondered what the hell had prompted this.

The kiss lasted an earth-shattering thirty seconds before Beca pulled away with an apologetic look as she turned to a blonde girl that Alexis hadn't seen before and the apology turned into a cocky smirk. Alexis couldn't help but echo it, even though she knew it wasn't directed at her.

"Believe me now?" Beca asked the girl, who was practically shaking with anger.

"Whatever," she growled before stomping away from the theater. Beca watched her go for a few seconds, then turned to Alexis.

"Oh my god," she said, "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to take you by surprise like that, but that was my ex and she'd completely insane and she started coming onto me and I didn't know what to do so I told her I was here to meet my girlfriend and she said she didn't believe me, then you go here so I just—"

Before she could say anymore, Alexis wrapped one hand around the back of her head and pulled her down, clashing their lips together. Beca moaned into her mouth, paralyzed for only a few seconds before she began to respond in earnest. This kiss lasted considerably longer than the first and it didn't take long for Beca to push Alexis into a nearby wall in order to keep them both from falling over.

When she pulled back, both girls were breathing heavily, their eyes unfocused and cheeks flushed pink. "Did that?" Alexis asked.

It took a few moments for Beca to get what she meant, but then she laughed and shook her head. "Yeah," she said, "that." Alexis beamed and Beca pressed her lips to that adorable smile, before pulling back and asking, "What does this mean?"

Alexis took a deep breath and leaned back against the wall. "It means," she said, "that I might like girls."

Beca snorted. "Might?"

Alexis chucked. "Okay," she said. "I _definitely_ like one girl. And I'm willing to give this a chance if she is." Beca pretended to look all around her and Alexis scoffed and hit her arm. "Jerk," she laughed.

Beca grinned and leaned down to nuzzle Alexis's nose. "She is," she whispered. "And, uh, she wants you to know…you have a beautiful smile."


	5. I am in love with your lips

**Pairing: Caskett**

" _ **I am in love with your lips"**_

She can still taste him on her tongue. The warm phantom of his lips on hers; the way they moved against hers, so naturally…

It's like they were always meant to do that. Always meant to kiss each other, to have their lips gliding against one another, her tongue tentatively poking out to grab a quick taste of his soft skin, even under the guise of a distraction. When his returned the favor, she can still remember moaning. It was a sound that took _her_ by surprise, so she can't even imagine how he…

No. She can't think about how Castle felt about the kiss. She can't think of him at all. Not tonight. Not when she's supposed to be going home, alone, to her own apartment, where she will make a call to her boyfriend out in Haiti. Where she will spend the night talking about his work with an underprivileged nation and people who were probably close to death before he and all the other medical staff rushed off to rescue them. She can't allow herself to think of Castle while she listens to Josh explain to her, in not so many words, that he is practically a superhero and she's a shitty girlfriend for thinking of another man in any other way than platonically.

She'd told Josh once that Castle was like one of the boys—like her brother. She may have believed it at the time, too. She'd spent the whole summer convincing herself that it would be weird if she and Castle had gotten together, if she'd gone to the Hamptons with him. Because she _didn't even like him_. That's what she told herself; that's what made it all better, made it stop hurting so goddamn much. Then she'd met Josh and they'd started something that was great in the beginning.

And then Castle had come back and starting interfering with her life again, turning it upside down and making her doubt herself. She knew from the second she laid eyes on him at that crime scene that he was not and could never be just another "brother" to her. He was so much more than that. And he was with Gina. Gina who wasn't a bad person at all, but Kate couldn't help but hate her—just a little bit. But she hated her considerably more when she broke Castle's heart, just a few short weeks ago.

Kate shakes off all thoughts of Gina Cowell as she enters her apartment the night of the kiss. She'd made sure that the boys were okay before she headed home. Made sure that Jenny arrived to take Ryan home and that Lanie had Esposito covered; that neither man was alone tonight. Like her.

But she's not really alone, is she? She still has the ghost of her partner, pressing earnest kisses to her lips as she walks through the apartment to her bedroom, where she will strip and depress. The thought of that kiss distracted her momentarily from her mother's murder. From Hal Lockwood and corrupt cops, from the many layers of her mother's complicated case that hid the "dragon" from view. She's grateful to him for that, but Castle won't be able to distract her forever. Eventually, she's going to learn who ordered the hit on her mother, the events that led up to her death, and his kisses with only be a temporary salve…

She shakes her head as she pauses in the doorway leading to her bedroom. She has to stop thinking about his kisses. Has to stop thinking about his lips because they are not the lips she should be thinking about right now. She closes her eyes and pictures Josh's lips. They're light and slightly chapped and so very gentle when they move over hers. They are a little harder when she needs something rough and they tend to slip over her body a tad too quickly for her liking.

She sighs as she walks further into the room, thinking of her boyfriend's lips, missing him like a not-shitty girlfriend should. She strips down until she's as bare as the day she was born, wiggling her toes in the plush carpet beneath her feet. Josh has a thing about her toes—and she often tries not to think about it—he likes to tickle them, likes to kiss each one as he moves up her legs. Sometimes it makes her feel uncomfortable, but it's always over soon enough so she never really mentions it.

She thinks about brown eyes as she starts the hot water going in her shower, holds her hand out until it's the perfect temperature, then climbs in. Her eyes close again as she lets the liquid heat run over her, thinks about brown eyes just as warm as they stare up at her, the attached lips inching their way up, up, up…Kate sighs as she imagines the phantom touch of lips at the apex of her thighs and realizes that her hand has moved of its own accord. She allows the fantasy to continue as the stream of hot water makes her skin slippery and oh so smooth.

Her hands run over her body as she feels those lips move over her, light and soothing. One hand raises to bury itself in her wet mop of hair like it would do if she were actually in this situation. She moans as her hand moves between her legs. She bites her lip for a second as her hand explores but can't help the word that tumbles from her lips:

"Castle…"

Suddenly, she freezes, eyes still closed but mind no longer imagining brown eyes and a shaggy black-haired crown. No. Now the eyes are icy blue. The hair is light brown and slightly wavy. The man running imaginary kisses up her body is decidedly _not_ her doctor boyfriend. He's…

"No," she says out loud, her eyes opening and her hand ripping away from her center. "No," she hisses again, as if chastising herself. She attempts to put _him_ out of her mind by reaching for the shampoo and lathering her hair so furiously that she is positive she'll lose some by the time she's done. She does the same with the conditioner, pinching the ends of her hair and then scrubbing to hard to make sure it all comes out before she reaches for the cherry-scented body wash. She's already got it covering her shoulders before she remembers how Castle pointed the scent out not too long ago.

She moans as the memory of his voice comes back to her. The huskiness of the declaration, the way he'd looked up and met her eyes, how their noses were practically touching. How she'd almost leaned forward as if to…NO! Internally, she curses her own traitorous mind and body, which now hums with need. Need for him.

She closes the body wash and sets it back on the shelf. She won't be able to get the scent off her shoulders but it will fade much sooner than if she washed her entire body with the stuff. She begins to think about other scents she could possibly start buying from Bath and Body Works. She makes a mental list as she turns the tap off and exits the shower.

Lavender is nice. As is lilac. And there's this midnight walk or something that smells pretty good. Mint would be refreshing. And she's been meaning to try this Apple Spice that—no. Nothing with apples. She can't even _think_ about apples. _NO APPLES!_

She groans at herself as she tugs on her terrycloth robe and pads into the bedroom, throwing herself dramatically onto her bed. She feels like a teenage girl, thinking about Castle's lips like a girl with a crush. She's not fifteen anymore; this should not still be happening. SHE'S IN HER THIRTIES GODDAMMIT! She rages at herself in her mind, but every time she so much as blinks, all she sees is blue eyes. His blue eyes. His lips running a scorching trail over her—

"Enough," she grumbles, opening her robe as she scoots up the bed. One night won't kill her. Just one night to get it out of her system. One night to clear her mind of blue eyes and petal pink lips.

Just. One. Night.

But even as she thinks it, even as she allows herself to picture those impossibly blue eyes—to feel those lips like he's right there in the room with her—she knows that it can never be just one night. They're not a temporary thing and she _knows_ that. She knows that he's not her "big brother" and she's not just some fling to him. She'd have to be blind not to see the way he looks at her; to not see the way his pink tongue moves over his bottom lip whenever he sees her in something just a little more revealing than her average work clothes. She knows exactly how he feels about her and it scares the living shit out of her.

Which is why she promises that she's only going to give herself this one night to think of those lips attached to those eyes and not make too big a deal of it. But even as her fingers mimic her fantasy-Castle's mouth, she knows that she's just lying to herself. She is too aware of her own feelings as she rises to that peak, her lips forming silently around his name as she slowly climbs higher and higher.

She knows as she reaches that peak, as she screams his name, that she's already in love with…his lips. That's it; just his lips. Nothing else. Because allowing herself to believe in anything else is too scary, too soon.

Too real.


	6. I am in love with your nose

**It's been a busy week and I'm starting to rethink my career as a Freelance Writer because it takes me away from you beautiful people. I love you all! Thank you for reading!**

 **Pairing: Becalexis**

" _ **I am in love with your nose."**_

Their first "official" date took place at a café, somewhere in Greenwich Village. If you asked either of them exactly where, they wouldn't be able to tell you the street name or any other identifying landmarks. Neither would be able to recall the name of the tiny hole-in-the-wall, plain black coffee with sugar and cream only, hot chocolate, green tea, and gourmet sandwich type place, but that wasn't really what they were paying attention to.

All Alexis could see was her girlfriend's—and it felt so strange to say that, even to herself—fingers tapping on the redwood tabletops. The way she curled her right hand around a powder blue mug of hot chocolate and brought it to her lips. The only thing she can remember with startling clarity is the mountain of whipped cream piled so high on the hot beverage that, on Beca's very first sip, she came away with a white mustache. The sight made Alexis giggled as her heart swelled in her chest.

"You're adorable," she blurted as the taller girl attempted to remove all the cream with the tip of her tongue. Beca stopped what she was doing and gave Alexis a wry grin, leaning forward with her laced hands under her chin.

"You think so?" she asked, batting her eyes. She looked utterly ridiculous with the remnants of her whipped cream mustache and even a small dab on the tip of her nose. Alexis leaned forward, as well, their faces just over an inch apart.

"Yes," she said. "Very. Except…"

"Except what?" Beca asked, looking suddenly very concerned. She raised her hand to touch her face, but Alexis's firm grip around her wrist stopped her. Beca's eyes widened and her bronze cheeks reddened just slightly. Alexis kept that adoring smile on her face as she leaned further into the other girl's space, tilting her chin until her lips could reach Beca's nose.

Quickly, her tongue darted out, swiping at the bit of cream on her nose and removed it swiftly. Then she pulled back with a bright smile on her face. "All better," she chirped, her cheeks turning pink. Beca's eyes were wide and she bit her lip as her face began to turn a darker shade of red. Alexis chuckled. "There's still a little more on your lips, though," she said, "if you wanted me to get that too."

Beca swallowed thickly and gave her a shaky grin. "No," she said, "I'm good, thanks." She reached for a napkin and swiped at her upper lip, the smile widening as she put it back down. "How do I look now?" she asked, returning to her usual flirty self.

Alexis titled her head. "You have an adorable nose," she commented and laughed as Beca once again began to blush. The redhead reached out and locked fingers with her girlfriend, feeling that bubble of happiness that she'd been living in for the last few days expand. Beca's smile mirrored hers and everything was perfect.

 **I hope that wasn't too sappy, guys, but I really love this pairing. It's hard for me to come up with OCs, but Beca Sterling is definitely my favorite. Please REVIEW!**


	7. I am in love with your eyes

**This one will be AU because I said so.**

 **Pairing: Caskett**

 **Prompt: The case in 'Always' had nothing to do with Johanna Beckett's murder so Castle and Beckett didn't fight, no secrets were revealed, and they kept their date.**

" _ **I am in love with your eyes."**_

She'd fallen in love with his eyes when she was about nineteen years old, less than four hours after her father returned from identifying her mother's body and her whole world came crashing down around her feet. Her father had refused to sleep in his bedroom, refused to believe that he would be able to sleep alone. It was the first night that he fell asleep with a bottle of whiskey in his fist.

Kate on the other hand…she found comfort in the scent of her mother's perfume on the pillow. She curled up on her side of the bed, still unmade from her rush to get to work that morning, and pressed her face into the dark purple pillowcase. She'd been with her mother the day she bought it, when Johanna had insisted that she join her on her Sunday errands instead of lounging around the house all day, eating junk food and watching Temptation Lane reruns.

"I knew I'd regret getting you into that show," she'd muttered, hitting Kate with a pillow once. The teen had just grunted at her and Johanna laughed, dropping onto the couch next to her. Kate had acted like she was annoyed when her mother pulled her in for a cuddle, but honestly she loved that her mother was still so affectionate and warm and loving with her. It made her feel warm inside, not that she'd ever admit that.

That night, Kate fingered the lace edges on the pillowcase and let her eyes wander around the room. There were a lot of books scattered around, on every surface. Kate was overtly aware that she'd inherited her mother's love of books and had begun reading on her own when she was four. Johanna and her were always trading and arguing over who had actually purchased that copy of To Kill a Mockingbird. It was a constant struggle.

 _Well,_ Kate thought bitterly. _I guess they're all mine now._ The thought brought tears to her eyes and she sat up, rubbing them away with the heels of her hands. She wasn't going to cry again. Not tonight, at least. She was already in for a bad case of dehydration when she woke up from all the tears that had fallen from her eyes.

So she turned to her mother's end table. Johanna always had a short stack of books she was planning to read when she had the time. On top of that pile was something called, Flowers for Your Grave by Richard Castle. Her mom had gushed about him once or twice. Usually along the lines of, "If I was just ten years younger…" to the unamused glare from her father. Kate remembered laughing at that. Turning the book over now, she could see exactly what her mother was talking about.

At an estimated decade older than Kate, the young man was tall, broad-shouldered, and ruggedly handsome. His charming grin—complete with dimples—and oceanic blue eyes immediately drew her eyes. There was something about the way he was looking straight at the camera, like he was seeing her, searching her gaze for…something. It was unnerving and no small bit interesting. And, to be quite honest, it was probably what prompted her to crack the thing open and start reading.

She found herself enthralled by the story-telling, her fingers running over the tight scrawled notes in the margins. Her mother's notes. This was obviously a well-loved book, which made it even more important for Kate to make it all the way through. And she did.

The sun was rising as she fell back to the pillows, the book right next to her face. Richard Castle smiled right back at her, those blue eyes seeming to sparkle. When hers finally shut, Kate dreamed of those blue eyes.

That never stopped. Not when she met him and thought him to be such an ass—which he was. Not when he infuriated her by constantly hitting at her, making jokes, and then delving into her mother's case even though it was the _only thing she expressly forbid_. Not when she cried the night he left for the Hamptons with his ex-wife, or for the whole summer thereafter. Not when she met a brown-eyes doctor who was sweet and charming and intelligent—but wasn't _him_.

She dreamed of those eyes all throughout her recovery. If she were being honest with herself, it was the only thing that kept her going. Being shot in the heart had…changed her. For a while, anyhow. It made her thoughts take decidedly darker turns and reminded her of the period of time directly following her mother's death. When she would consider just quitting and joining Johanna wherever people went after they died. At least they could be together.

Her father had stopped her that time. The knowledge that losing her after already having lost his beloved wife would only drive him further into despair and pain is what kept her alive, as well as the desire to solve her mother's murder. She knew that she had too much to live for back then, no matter how much she hurt.

And every time she found herself thinking of…that, she would close her eyes and there his would be, the skin around them crinkling in amusement or affection. She would hear his declaration of love in her ear, only different. It was no longer a desperate plea for her life, but a soft whisper against the shell of her ear that she could almost feel. When could make it, she would sit at the end of the long dock right in front of her father's cabin, dip her toes into the cool water, and close her eyes, imaging that he was right there with her, holding her hand and forcing her to look into those gorgeous baby blues and he repeated the phrase, "You've got this," over and over again.

It broke her heart to see them so filled with hurt when she saw him for the first time after that. He was guarded for this whole last year, but still pouring out his heart to her via his eyes at the same time. He was her shoulder to cry on, the whispered words of encouragement all year long. Whenever she needed strength, she just looked at him and stared deep into that gorgeous blue eyes of his—when he was looking at the murder board or at his phone, but sometimes when he looked at her too—and found it.

And now, finally, they were going on their first date.

Okay, well not exactly. He'd invited her to his place for a movie night. Which they'd done before. With Martha and Alexis. Whom, tonight, would be completely absent from the loft.

Butterflies fluttered in Kate's stomach as she stood in front of her closet. It was still a full twelve hours until she'd agreed to be at his place and she couldn't force herself to sleep in. Their most recent case had been the basic open and shut. Angry wife caught husband cheating and confessed the second Kate flashed her badge. Nothing to it, really; she'd finished the paperwork before she even had to clock out the night before and Castle had bid her farewell long before that.

But now…it was just past six in the morning and she couldn't, for the life of her, figure out what to wear. Back when they'd first met, her closet had been pretty much bare; only the basic work suits, simple blouses, skinny jeans, and a dress or two taking up residence. But Lanie had insisted on shopping trips more regularly after he showed up, despite Kate's insistence that she was so not interested.

Now she was thankful for those trips because it had become a habit to walk into a department store or boutique anytime she found something remotely interesting in the window and because of that, she had a wardrobe that any woman in this city would kill for. (And judging from some of the murders she saw daily, that was so not an exaggeration.)

But that still didn't help her figure out what to wear to Castle's place. Considering it was really only a double feature at his place, could she get away with wearing one of her old pairs of skinny jeans or even a pair of sweats? Or did she want to dress up a little with a nice blouse or maybe a dress. No, a dress would be going to far. She never wore dresses except for special events, like Ryan and Jenny's wedding, and even that dress hadn't been overtly dressy, but still.

No dress.

So then a t shirt or button up? Maybe a flannel. She liked the flannels she got from the men's side of the store. They were thick and warm and if she let them hang open, her curves were still visible and actually accentuated. She could wear a light tee underneath that and it would probably be fine. Casual, yet fun. And definitely comfortable. A pair of skinny jeans would be okay, too, since she just knew that Castle loved the way her ass looked in them. She no longer blushed at that thought because it was as obvious as her name now.

So that would be good. But…what about underwear. Kate didn't want to be presumptuous and wear her Victoria's Secret stuff (of which she had been collecting for the last four years, though she refused to voice exactly why, since she'd never bothered with expensive lingerie before) or just stick with the cutesy matching cotton bras and boy shorts she was used to. Either way, it wasn't exactly a given if anybody else would be seeing them and it was probably better to be comfortable if that was the case, right?

She picked out a simple deep purple bra with white polka dots and a black bow, then reached for a pair of blue and white striped boy shorts. She didn't care that they didn't match; maybe Castle would find it endearing. That is, if they went there, which still wasn't a given. She couldn't suppress the ever present hope that it was, though. Oh god she hoped it was. She was finally ready to take that step and get lost in the ocean of his eyes.

And now she sounded like some cheesy romance novel. Just fantastic.

She shook off the poetic thoughts and made her way into the kitchen to make coffee, deciding that it was better to have a nice breakfast and get her thoughts off of her non-date tonight, when her phone rang on her night stand. She practically broke her neck running towards it and prayed that it wasn't the precinct calling her in for another murder. It would be just her luck if Ryan called her in with a cockblock murder.

Her prayers were answered when she saw it wasn't Ryan, or Esposito, or Lanie, or even the Twelfth Precinct. It was Castle.

She swallowed thickly and her heart raced as a million thoughts ran through her mind. Was he canceling their date? Had something come up? Was he finished waiting for her? Was he okay? Was Alexis? Martha? Only one way to find out.

She pressed 'Accept' and pressed the phone to her ear. "Beckett," she answered.

"Hey, Kate!" Her heart bounced in her chest at the use of her first name in that happy tone and she could practically see the skin around his eyes crinkling in that adorable way.

"Hey, Castle," she replied softly. She couldn't call him Rick; that would make it too serious. "What's up?"

"The sky," he replied, cheekily. "There's a few clouds, some pigeons, a plane just flew overhead…"

"Shut up, smartass," she snorted. She could hear the deep rumble of his chuckle over the phone and her heart fluttered like she was a fifteen year old girl again, talking to her crush on the phone. Only this time she wouldn't get tangled in the cord. "Seriously, what's up? Everything okay?"

"Everything's fine," Castle replied. "Well, except…"

"Except what?" Kate asked.

Castle sighed. "Meredith can't make it to Alexis's graduation."

Kate's eyes widened at that. To be honest, from what Castle had told her, Meredith wasn't exactly an all that "present" parent as it was, but to miss her own daughter's graduation, well…

"I hope she has a good reason," she said, unable to keep the anger out of her voice. Alexis was literally the perfect child and yet Meredith still canceled repeatedly on her and took her for granted. She better have a damn good reason.

"Her flight was delayed until further notice," Castle informed Kate. "And don't worry, I checked. It's legit. And, besides, even if it were to leave right now, she wouldn't be here by noon in time for the ceremony. She promised she'd try for a flight out by tomorrow morning but that's about the best she can do."

"Is Alexis okay with that?" Kate asked. "I hope she doesn't get too upset on her graduation day."

She could practically hear his smile as he said, "That's real sweet of you Beckett, but she's doing fine. To be honest, I think she almost expected something like this. Meredith missed her middle school graduation too, because she was working on location in Dublin or something. It's kind of sad, but I'm just happy she's not letting it ruin her day, you know?"

"Yeah," Kate agreed. "I get that, but, uh, what do you want from me?"

"Oh, well we have an extra ticket now," Castle said, "and it would be a shame if it went to waste, so I was wondering…would _you_ maybe want to go to the graduation?" He phrased the question slowly and cautiously, as if speaking too fast would make her hang up on him.

No chance of that. "Seriously?" she asked. "You…you want me to go to your daughter's graduation? Is…is Alexis okay with that?"

"Are you kidding?" he laughed. "She adores you! She's the one that insisted I invite you."

"She is?" Kate asked, her eyes widening. She didn't think Alexis liked her all that much; not since the bank incident.

"Of course!" Castle said. "Well, at first she said we should invite Lanie, but she's kind of backlogged."

"Oh, so I'm plan C, then?' Kate teased.

He snorted. "Third time's the charm, right?" They both laughed at that. "So what do you say?"

Kate took another long look at her closet and sighed. "Do I have to wear a dress?" she asked.

"Anything you want, provided that it's appropriate for high school and doesn't have flashing lights."

"Darn, and I had the perfect outfit too," she joked. He let out a louder laugh at that. "Sure," she said, softer this time. "I'd love to come."

"Awesome!" Castle exclaimed, then cleared his throat. "I mean…cool. I'll, uh, pick you up at 11:30, provided my mother is ready by then."

" _I heard that!"_ Kate heard Martha yell in the background.

"Can't wait," she said softly, biting her lips. "See you later, Castle."

"Later," he replied. She could hear the smile in his voice.

Turning back to her closet, Kate sighed and trudged back towards it.

 _Goodbye, comfortable underwear_ , she thought as she pulled out dress after dress and laid them on her bed. None of them were compatible with boy shorts and she practically pummeled the voice in her head—which sounded like a combination of Lanie, Maddie, and her mother—that told her that was a decidedly _good_ thing.

-O-

She'd decided on a deep purple halter dress and put her hair up in a mess of curls that floated down to frame her face. It looked a lot more complicated than it was to actually do and she wondered if it would make her look too dressed up for a high school graduation. She hoped the way her dress flared out at the hips until it hung loosely around her legs gave off the casual summer look, like it was supposed to. She considered downplaying her makeup, but eventually decided that the thick eyeliner and purple eye shadow would better complement her outfit. She finished off the look with a pair of silver gladiator sandals with a heel that was shorter than usual but looked better than her usual ones with this dress. Kate smiled shyly at herself in the mirror when she thought Castle's face when he saw her.

But, then again, she could answer the door in a hoodie and ripped jeans, with absolutely no makeup on her face and her hair a mess, and he would _still_ give her that look of his; like a lovesick puppy with his tail wagging happily. To be honest, she loved the way he looked at her, when their eyes met and locked for what felt like hours—but was really only seconds—until either one of them looked away or somebody interrupted—lately, the latter was more frequent than the former and she wondered what that meant for them.

The knock at the door came before she knew it and she felt like a teenage girl about to be picked up for her first date. Only this time, her father was there to intimidate the boy so bad he refused to so much look at her all night long. Kate rolled her eyes at the memory as she strolled through the apartment to answer the door, her face immediately lightening when she saw the bouquet of daisies covering his face.

"I don't remember ordering any flowers," she mused and Castle's deep laugh came from behind them, the flowers shifting to the side to reveal his handsome, smiling face and those deep blue eyes.

"They're complimentary," he replied, presenting them to her. "Some lady followed us for three blocks until I purchased them from her."

"Well, she looked like she could use the money," a voice behind him said and Martha appeared from behind him. "Hello, Katherine, darling," she greeted, opening her arms for a hug. Kate didn't even hesitate before stepping into them. Martha honestly gave the best hugs since her mother—maybe it was just a mom thing. When they pulled back, the redhead was beaming at her. "You look _lovely_ , dear!" she exclaimed. "That dress is a wonderful fit for you and just perfect for today. Don't you think, Richard?" She turned to Castle with a knowing glint and he nodded, giving Kate 'that look'.

"You look beautiful," he said, reverently, and she blushed.

"Thank you," she murmured, looking down at the flowers in her hand. "Um, I'm just gonna go put these in some water and then we can go." She didn't wait for his reply before heading off into her tiny kitchen.

She had three vases. One was from her Aunt Theresa, who'd got it on sale somewhere and decided that she couldn't keep it because one of her many, _many_ cats might knock it down and break it. It wasn't special and it was literally made of fragile glass, so Kate had to keep in wrapped up so it didn't crack randomly. The second was some clay thing her cousin's son had given her for her birthday years ago. It was glazed and painted all kinds of colors, but she never used it because of the hole in the side that had water spilling out of it. But she kept it because it was something special from her family. Speaking of family, the last vase was her mother's. It was tall and blue and had waves and seashells painted on it. Kate remembered the day they got it, in some furniture store on the Jersey shore when she was about 13 years old. Her mother had fallen in love with it and there was a constant stream of flowers coming into the apartment to keep it in use and out on the center of their kitchen counter, where all could see it.

And it was Kate's favorite. Her father had insisted she take it with her when she moved out. He told her that it was inevitable that she would have suitors who would bring her flowers and that her mother would want her to keep this vase for exactly that. It was ridiculous and maybe he was half-drunk when he said it, but Kate didn't try to argue with him. She loved that vase because every time she looked at it, she saw her mother tracing patterns on it with her fingers, telling Kate stories about how when she was little, she used to roll around in the sand and giggle like a maniac. And how she was determined to learn how to surf when she was five, but instead ended up with a mouth full of sea water and a starfish stuck to her butt cheek, which made both of her parents laugh.

Kate smiled at those memories as she pulled the vase down from a high cupboard and set it in the sink. She filled it halfway with water and set the bouquet, sans the wrapping paper it was wrapped in, inside, pressing her nose to the flowers for one last sniff.

"You ready?" Castle's voice said in her ear and she turned, finding him alarmingly close to her, those blue eyes practically staring into her soul and making her heart stutter. Their noses were an inch apart and all she would have to do was lean in and…

"For all the yelling you did about _me_ making us late, Richard, you'd think we'd be on the road by now!" Martha's voice floated through the apartment and Castle sighed while Kate chuckled, instinctively leaning into him. His lips brushed against her forehead; accidentally, at first, but then she could feel him press a firm kiss to her hairline and she, in turn, buried her nose in his shoulder, smiling against his shirt. They stayed like that for another moment, before he pulled away and offered her his arm.

With a shy grin, Kate took it, grabbed her clutch from the counter, and allowed him to guide her out. She pretended not to notice the knowing glint in Martha Rodgers' eyes as she took her son's other arm and they were off.

-O-

Alexis's graduation was interesting…

Kate knew that she was the only person who wasn't related to her graduate in any way (even thinking of Alexis as "her" graduate was kind of weird.) but Castle made her feel right at home with his arm slung casually over the back of her chair as he leaned in every so often to whisper a tidbit about the kids he remembered growing up with Alexis. Like Thomas, the boy who once pulled her hair so hard that a chunk of it came out and Alexis cried the rest of the day. Or Andrea, who was Alexis's best friend before Paige, but then went full Goth and they drifted apart for a while. They were friends again but not like before, which seemed to sadden him.

When Alexis approached the stage for her speech, he stopped talking and sat up perfectly straight, those blue eyes riveted to his redheaded daughter. She'd never seen him so focused on anything in his life and it was almost hilarious; how much attention he was capable of paying to something despite being the so oft described "nine-year-old on a sugar rush." Kate pulled out the camera—which she only saved for very special occasions—and snapped a few pictures of him, of that laser focus. Then she turned her camera to Alexis and smiled as the girl spoke loud and proud, her voice not trembling even once as she recited the speech Castle told her she'd spent many hours stressing over.

At the end, Alexis found them in the audience and beamed into the camera, giving Kate a little wave in the older woman waved back with one hand while the other snapped a quick photo and then she, Castle, and Martha started to clap with everybody else. She felt tears well in her eyes and her heart filled with a ridiculous sense of pride given that she wasn't even this girl's mother. But she didn't care too much about that because, dammit, she had watched Alexis grow into a beautiful, intelligent young woman and she was proud as hell.

So she clapped and whistled and acted like a total dorky mom like all the rest of the women sitting there with her. She could feel Castle's eyes on her the entire time, but she didn't turn to meet them, too embarrassed of what she might find if she did.

When they met the teen outside of the auditorium afterwards, she was practically bouncing on her toes with pride and excitement. "I did it!" she squealed in lieu of greeting and Castle picked her up in a tight bear hug and spun her around.

"Yes you did!" he exclaimed. "I'm so proud of you, Pumpkin!" Alexis laughed and hugged him back before he placed her back onto her feet and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Then she turned and got a huge hug and kiss from her grandmother.

"Europe," Martha said, her hands cupping the girl's round cheeks. "Starting next week, we will be taking a tour of _all_ the most magical cities, from Paris to Rome—all of them. Just you and me."

"What about the Hamptons?" Alexis asked, but her voice was full of wonder and Kate could tell that she was conflicted. But Castle just smiled at her.

"We'll take a trip up the weekend before you go off to college," he promised. "You should be back by then, right?"

Alexis nodded, her face splitting into a large grin as she threw herself back into his arms. "Thanks, Dad!" she murmured into his neck and he pressed a kiss to her forehead, before letting go.

Then Alexis turned to Kate, who'd watched with a soft smile of her own. "Congratulations," she said, after a moment of silence. Alexis smiled shyly at her.

"Thank you, Detective Beckett," she said.

Kate rolled her eyes. "You can call me Kate, Alexis," she said. "I'm not on duty right now."

Alexis laughed. "I know," she said, "but it just feels so…strange to call you Kate. You've always been Detective Beckett to me."

"Well, hopefully that changes soon," Kate said, chancing a quick glance at Castle, whose eyes flashed with something she couldn't name, before she reached into her clutch and pulled out a green envelope. "Here," she said, handing it to Alexis. "Happy graduation."

The girl's eyes widened as she gingerly took the envelope from the older woman's hand. "You didn't have to get me anything," she said, softly.

Kate shrugged. "It's kind of customary to gift a graduate," Kate said. "Especially one who's about to spend a ton of money on her school of choice."

Alexis smiled at her and opened the envelope. Inside was a card with a funny, pop-out message, and an Amazon gift card for "Three hundred dollars?!" Alexis gasped, looking up at her.

"For textbooks," Kate explained. "I remember how much mine were and that will just barely cover one, if you're lucky."

The next thing she knew, her cheek was pressed into a crown of red hair and Alexis's arms were around her waist, cap knocked askew on her head. Castle snatched it before it could fall off and Kate just stood there, paralyzed for a moment, before her arms came up to wrap themselves around the shorter girl.

"Thanks, Kate," Alexis murmured into the crook of her neck and the detective smiled.

"You're welcome," she said, softly, then pulled back to look into Alexis's eyes—which were lighter than Castle's, but still held that youthful, affectionate energy. "I'm very proud of you," she said, feeling a lump form in her throat. The memory of her mother's voice saying those exact words echoed in her ear and she could see tears flooding Alexis's eyes as she beamed up at her. A flash of sadness in those same eyes—assumedly as she thought of her own absent mother—and then she nodded, clearing her throat.

"Thanks," she said again. Kate's smile widened and she impulsively kissed the younger girl's cheek, then slung her arm around her shoulder as they turned back to Castle and Martha, who were both smiling brilliantly at them. "What?" the girls asked simultaneously.

Castle's smile widened, but he shook his head. "Nothing," he said, then cleared his throat. "'How about we go grab a bite to eat before your party begins and Gram has to leave for her vacation, huh?"

"Remy's?" Alexis asked, hopefully.

"Is there anything else?" Castle snorted. "Come on, pumpkin; milkshakes all around, on me."

"Isn't that kind of messy?" Kate teased, blushing slightly as his hand brushed against hers on Alexis's back.

"Hardee har har," Castle replied, wrinkling his nose at her. Kate and Alexis both snorted and Martha gave a cackle as she grabbed her son's arm and the four of them headed out of the school.

-O-

Later, after a lunch full of jokes, laughter, and more eye rolls than she ever remembers giving him (with a little help from Alexis, who seems to have developed the bad habit—Castle blames her for this), he walks her to her apartment. It's just after two in the afternoon and they only have about four hours until their movie date—because, for the life of her she cannot think of a better word that doesn't sound completely lame—is set to begin.

He lingers as she pulls her keys out of the clutch purse and sets to unlocking the door, standing closer to her than usual. When she turns back to say goodbye, he's as close as he was before, in her kitchen; closer even. Their noses are practically brushing and his eyes are noticeably darker, glancing down at her lips before rising to meet her eyes.

Suddenly her throat is dry and she swallows thickly in an attempt to clear it, her tongue poking out to swipe at her bottom lip and his eyes darken further, causing her breath to stutter slightly and her head to lean forward slightly, unable to resist their draw. This seems to be all the permission Castle needs as finally close the gap between them.

When their lips touch, it's more tentative then she'd thought would be. She was expecting the fire that had encompassed their first kiss over a year ago in that alley. The kiss that had taken her by surprise in more ways than one. But, instead of that blazing inferno, it was more like a slow burn that took over her body inch by inch. His hands on her hip and the curve of her cheek, pulling her into his body, left embers in their wake. Her hands, in turn, wound around his neck, the clutch and keys dropping from her hands to wind in his hair, her lips gliding softly against his.

The word—or rather phrase—that had repeated and echoed over and over in her brain the last time they'd kissed was, "holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck," until she'd lost nearly all brain function from the feeling of his lips on hers. At least, until she'd forced her eyes open and pistol-whipped that guard and walked away, stumbling with Castle on her heels. She couldn't even look at him back then.

But now he's all she can see as she closes her eyes, focusing her attention on the shivers that run through her entire body as his lips brush hers, again and again. She just barely registers her front door connecting with her back, because his body feels like the sun against her front, pressing himself as tightly against her as possible, as if trying to force their bodies to fuse together. She doesn't mind, though, her hands clawing at his back and one coming back around to pull at the blood red tie he's wearing, her lips pressing insistently to his.

It's a kiss that she'll remember later, when she's alone in her apartment, still catching her breath as she readies herself for their date. He'd practically fallen back from her when his phone rang, nearly tripped over his own two feet to answer it, leaving her in a puddle against the door.

"Hello?" he'd said, clearing his throat. His face turned beet red in the next second as he turned back to her, his eyes now only half as glazed as hers, his lips covered in her lip gloss. The sight of him made her want to laugh, but she didn't have the breath for it. "Hey, Alexis," he said and she matched his shade of red. "Yeah, I'll be right down. Tell the cabbie to keep the meter running. Okay. Bye, pumpkin." He hung up the phone.

"You're not staying?" she'd asked before she could stop herself. She bit her lip as she waited for his answer and received a large grin in return as she leaned back into her, his forehead pressed against hers and their noses brushing. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, inhaling him as she let a smile tug at the corners of her lips.

"I would love to stay," he said. "But I have to go home and blubber for a little bit over my daughter's graduation." She chuckled at that and opened her eyes to see those baby blues staring back at her, shining happily. "But, uh," he said, swallowing thickly, "I'll see you later?"

"It's a date," she said, and she could feel his breath stutter against her lips as he took in the weight of her words. She chuckled and shook her head. "Castle," she breathed, "we just made out against my door; that's not nearly as shocking as—"

He'd cut her off with another earth-shattering kiss, hands cupping her cheeks and tongue sweeping over her lips. She was about to grant him access into her mouth when he pulled away, suddenly, breathing heavily as he bent over for her keys and purse. He held them out to her, standing nearly two feet away. She reached out for both with shaky hands and chuckled as he pretty much backed away the second they were in her grasp.

"I'll, uh, I'll see you later, Be—Kate." He smiled that bright smile at her and didn't even realize when he hit the wall at the end of her hall. The smile never left his face though; not even as he turned and sprinted to the elevator. She watched him with a smile of her own and sighed as she turned back to her door, unlocked it, and stepped inside.

The second she was in, she fell back and let out the squeal that had been threatening to break free from her lips since the second he kissed her forehead hours earlier. Then she slid down the door to the floor and fell sideways with a girlish giggle. Sometimes it was good to feel like a teenage girl.

Especially one whose blue-eyed crush kissed her back.

 **I worked two days on this (on and off because I had theater auditions—I got the part—and work to do. I also started my own theater company with a new friend and had to sit with my grandpa through his physical therapy so it's been a busy week so far) and there's a possibility for a continuation in the next Caskett chapter I do because I really like the idea of this being their first date. Next, however, is a Becalexis chapter, so give me your thoughts on this one in the REVIEWS. Thanks for reading guys!**


	8. I am in love with your freckles

**Pairing: Becalexis**

 **To the person telling me that they wish Becalexis would 'just go away', please stop; it's rude. I very much like this couple and my OC, Beca Sterling. If you don't like them then that's fine, you don't have to read their chapters, but keep your negative opinions to yourself. They are not constructive.**

" _I am in love with your freckles."_

She has freckles. For some reason, this shocks Beca the first time they end up in bed together. It shouldn't surprise her given the fact that her girlfriend has such fair skin, but it does. Because the light freckles on her face are usually covered up by makeup and, before tonight, she's never seen the entirety of her body.

She smiles when she realizes that she can't say that anymore. Alexis is pressed into her side, even now, cuddling into her under the blankets, their bare bodies pressed together as they cool down from their…excursion. They've been dating for a full three months now and Alexis just recently decided that she wanted to take their relationship to the next level. Beca was more than willing to wait, as long as she needed, but Alexis was insistent upon it. And, to be completely honest, Beca has never been happier.

At the beginning of their friendship—when Alexis was 100% that she was 1000% straight—Beca never would have imagined she'd be lying in bed, stark naked, counting the orange freckles that spread like a constellation across Alexis's pale back. Her right index finger trails softly along the skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake and causing a shiver to run down the redhead's spine. Alexis's nose snuffles against her collarbone and her eyelids flutter open, cloudy blue peering up at her.

"What are you doing?" she grumbles, the vibrations of her words leaving tingles on Beca's skin. The taller girl smiles down at her.

"Did I wake you?" she whispers, smiling ruefully as she turns her body, slinging her other arm around Alexis's body. "I'm sorry, Red," she coos, pressing her nose to the redhead's ear. She can feel Alexis's smile against her skin and practically hears her purr in contentment.

"Mm," she mumbles, "no. I was awake. Just dozing. You're warm."

Beca laughs at that and presses her lips to Alexis's forehead. "You're adorable," she responds. "And your freckles look like stars."

"Ugh," Alexis snorts. "You are such a cheeseball." She sounds more awake right now and Beca looks down to see her now unclouded blue eyes gazing up at her lovingly. She presses one hand to the freckled, bare of makeup, cheek and runs a thumb over the light dusting of freckles there, smiles when the skin turns pink under her hand.

"Are you blushing?" she teases, scooting down the bed so that they're eye to eye. Alexis turns her face into the crook of Beca's neck.

"No," comes her muffled reply. Beca chuckles. "Shut up." Beca laughs louder and tightens her hold when the smaller girl attempts to roll away from her. "No, no," she says, giggling, "don't leave me, sunshine. I'm sorry." She presses kisses all over Alexis's face and the girl wriggles and snorts, her own arms wrapping around her girlfriend's shoulders as their bodies press as firmly together as their lips do, eventually.

Beca practically melts into the kiss, one hand raising to bury itself in Alexis's already mussed hair. Alexis sighs into her mouth and the corners of her lips turn up as she clutches at Beca. When the girls pull away, they're both smiling, eyes lit up with affection.

"I love you, Bec," Alexis whispers, nuzzling the tanner girl's nose with her own.

"I love you, too, Red," Beca replies, pressing another tiny kiss to her lips. "And your freckles."

Alexis, once again, goes bright pink. "You do?" she asks, suddenly looking very self-conscious. "I usually don't."

Beca's face softens and she leans in, pressing her lips to a smattering of freckles on the shorter girl's shoulders. "I love," she said, pressing another kiss to her neck, "every," kiss, "single," kiss, "one." She ended up back at Alexis's lips after making a pit stop at her chest, where more freckles lay. "Every inch of you is beautiful, Red," she finished, softly, looking deep into the other girl's eyes. "Freckles and all."

 **I hope that was fluffy enough for you. Caskett is next with the continuation of their 'Always' date that never was.**


	9. I am in love with your cheeks

**Continuation of "I am in love with your eyes"**

 **Pairing: Caskett**

" _I am in love with your cheeks."_

She shows up to the loft with a bottle of wine and a Duane Reade bag filled with candy (taken from her own private stash, because yes, she can be a child as well.) He welcomes her with a wide grin and—surprisingly—a peck on the lips that heats her entire body from head to toe though it lasts barely a second. She swears that there's a dopey grin on her face as they move into the main room, but he's turned away from her so he doesn't see the way she presses her hand over her mouth, if only to stop the ridiculous tingling sensation.

"You okay?"

She doesn't realize until she hears his voice and looks up to see him watching her with a glint of amusement in his eyes that she's stopped moving and stands at the invisible border between the kitchen and dining room. She flushes and clears her throat, unable to keep from biting her lip.

"I'm fine," she insists, and feels her cheeks start to hurt from smiling so much. "I'm…perfect."

Now it's his turn to smile dopily at her as he nods in agreement. "Yeah…" he sighs and she's ninety percent sure that he didn't really mean to say it from the way his cheeks pink. But the smile doesn't drop from his face and, likewise, he doesn't even attempt to look away from her.

They share that adoring gaze for what might be as much as an hour or as little as ten seconds, before she clears her throat and looks down, still smiling. "So…" she says.

"So," he echoes. "Wine?" He holds out two glasses and she chuckles, nodding. "I'll pour," he offers, "you go on and sit down. I'll be there in a minute."

She's still holding the bag of candy (he'd taken the bottle of wine after that tingly peck) and feeling utterly ridiculous and more like a teenage girl than she's felt since she actually _was_ a teenage girl (or, rather, more than how she'd felt before, in her apartment, after their kiss). She makes her way to the couch and feels as if she's floating on some kind of cloud the entire way there, before fluttering down to land on the deliciously soft sofa. She practically sinks into the cushions (as she pretty much always does with this designer piece of furniture whenever she's over) and sighs, closing her eyes.

"Don't fall asleep on me," a deep voice says in her ear and she jumps, practically pummels Castle with the bag before reeling herself in and giving him her usual glare (though, admittedly, she softens it a little this time).

"Don't sneak up on me like that," she grumbles. "I could have killed you."

He chuckles but her serious expression has him clamping his lips together and swallowing thickly. "Message received," he says, handing her a glass. "Now drink your wine."

The words echo in her mind and bring up a memory of a different couch, a different apartment, a different her…with totally different hair. He was a bit rougher back then, with scruffy cheeks and slightly floppier hair. Undeniably adorable—and she was working _so hard_ back then to deny it.

Now, she glances at those same cheek bones as she takes a sip of wine and notices a tiny bit of stubble that wasn't there before, when he'd dropped her off and…her stomach flutters as the memory of his lips on hers flash in front of her eyes and she finds herself unconsciously reaching out for him.

Her fingers are brushing against the curve of his cheek before she even knows what's happening.

"Kate?" His voice is as rough as his skin; rougher. It grates against her nerves, but in a good way. The kind of way that sends shivers down her spine and makes her own lips curve into a smile as her teeth bite into the bottom one. She meets his eyes and sees them darken to almost navy as he leans into her hand, rubbing the sandpaper roughness against her palm. She marvels at this softer side of him (he was already a pretty soft man to begin with) and revels in the loving gaze he tosses her way.

As she rubs his cheek, she feels something swell up in her throat, threatening to burst right through her lips if she doesn't tamp it down. The thing is…she has no _want_ to tamp it down. Instead, the words are practically bursting from her lips, her entire body tensing slightly to keep from just blurting it into face.

She sits up straighter, removes her hand from his cheek and places her glass down on the coffee table, snatching his as he sits there, looking completely dumbfounded and confused. She gives him a quick grin, before placing the wine glass on the table and turns back to him, cupping his cheeks and welcomes the feel of the tiny hairs scratching her palms. She smiles up at him, trying to inject every ounce of what she feels into the flash of her teeth, the curve of her lips and her heart bounces in her chest when he grins back, leaning forward part way until their noses brush.

She nuzzles him before pressing her lips softly to his and using her grip on his cheeks to keep him in place as she sips from his lips. She feels his hands grip her waist as they sink into one another and one of her hands abandons its place on his cheek to cup the nape of his neck, pulling him further into her body.

When they pull back for air, several seconds later, she presses her smile to his cheek and breathes deeply through her nose, inhaling his spicy scent. Then she says it; the words that can no longer be held back with a simple press of her lips.

"I love you."

And the resulting smile that spreads his lips and lifts those deliciously scruffy cheeks makes her heart practically burst open with love and so much more love than she's ever felt for anyone. She wants to say it a million times more to see how much larger it could possibly grow.

But then his lips are pressing insistently into hers and his hands are cupping her cheeks as he kisses the words back into her mouth. Then there's no more talking as they fall to the couch together.

Needless to say, the movies, candy, and wine are all neglected after that.

 **I hope you guys liked that short little chapter I just did. Show your love with REVIEWS or silently with smiles. I'll just know. Love you!**


	10. I am in love with your teeth

**Pairing: Becalexis**

" _I am in love with your teeth."_

Looking in the mirror, Alexis is not surprised to see yet another love bite from her girlfriend, right over the place where her thyroid gland pulses. She smiles to herself as she remembers their date from the previous night.

They'd gone to see some new movie called "Jenny's Wedding" about a young woman who comes out to her family and announces her engagement to the woman they thought was her roommate and their struggle to accept her as she is. It had been cute and funny and refreshing to see something about the struggles queer women actually had to go through when it came to be accepted by the ones they loved.

And it made Alexis feel blessed that her parents' reaction (well, her father, step-mother, and Gram, anyway) was completely positive. She blushes as she remembers the cake that Martha had baked (and burned) with rainbow frosting and her name in messy handwriting on top. Kate had told her about the girlfriend she'd had while she attended the Academy and her father had practically choked on his fork (and Alexis was certain it had less to do with the horrendous cake and more to do with the thought of Kate with a woman). His wife had glared at him and then rolled her eyes, mouthing "men" to Alexis and making the young woman laugh.

Castle hadn't really reacted in any other way than to tell Alexis that he loved her and welcome Beca with open arms. She's pretty sure he gave her the 'hurt my daughter and I will make your death look like an accident' talk, though; featuring Kate Beckett Castle and her Glock.

Still, it was infinitely better than what Jenny and Kitty had to go through. At least her father had accepted her right away. Her mother, however…well, that's a story for another day.

Besides, Alexis hadn't really been all that focused on the movie last night, not with Beca's teeth scraping over the sensitive skin of her neck, nipping and leaving indentations and bite marks all over her skin and forcing Alexis to wrap her scarf tightly around her neck as they left the theater, already getting looks from others for holding hands. Not that Alexis really cared anymore; not when she was with the love of her life.

She smiles at that and forgoes the cover-up she was about to apply over the only bite mark that hasn't faded since last night. In a weird way, the little mark—which she's like 99% positive was just Beca's way of letting the world know that Alexis Harper Castle is taken—is a sign of her girlfriend's love and affection. Hiding it would just be ridiculous in that sense.

Besides, Alexis thinks to herself as she heads out the door, cell phone and purse in hand, her neck bared to the world, she can always exact her revenge.

 **REVIEWS please!**

 **Also, there's a link for a gofundme on my tag (which is linked on my tumblr page, cassiebones, right at the top) because I'm having trouble with financial aid and will likely not be able to attend college for my senior year because of it. It would really be a big help if you guys could share this link on Twitter, Facebook, or reblog it, even if you can't donate. Getting the word out helps a great deal. Thank you so much for reading!**


	11. I am in love with your tongue

**Pairing: Caskett**

 **This one is a little late because of work and my other fic, "Johanna", which I'm working on right now, but I think you'll like it. Enjoy!**

 _I am in love with your tongue_

The first time they kiss (without the guise of "undercover" or the desperation of near-death experiences), he feels like a teenager again.

First, he's nervous; his hands are sweaty and his heart is pounding so hard in his chest that he swears he's about to faint. It's ridiculous, considering they've already done so much already, but it happens only after their first date (at his insistence) in which he takes her to Connecticut, to some out-of-the-way restaurant where he knows the owners and they will not be recognized by any press.

They treat it like any other first date; he pulls out her chair for her, asks her about herself (playfully, because he already knows so much about her) and cutely splits a dessert with her, feeding her from his own fork. He even pays for dessert and offers her his jacket (despite the early summer warmth of June) and asks to hold her hand as they walk through a nearby park.

She gives him one of those cheeky smiles he loves—where her tongue pokes out between her teeth—and he grins back as she presses into his side. Her nose nudges against the side of his neck and he's certain that he can hear her inhale, as if she's _smelling_ him, which is pretty flattering, in his opinion. He doesn't mention it, though; just holds her closer as they make their way back to the car.

Still he does not kiss her, despite her numerous tries.

"You know the deal, Kate," he says, chuckling when he pulls away from her questing lips on his neck. "I have to bring you to your door first."

"Castle," she groans, "it's a little late for first date etiquette, don't you think?" He tongue pokes out between her teeth and he bites back a growl as her hand begins to wander to his thigh, his own fingers closing around it. He links their digits and presses a soft, closed-mouth kiss to the tips of her fingers, then lays them both on the console between them as he pulls out into traffic.

She's silent the whole way home and then while he walks her into her apartment building. Her doorman, Chuck, winks at them as they walk past, his eyes flitting to their linked fingers and then back up to their faces. Of everybody they know, he is the only one who is aware of their newfound relationship and has voiced his complete approval (Castle is certain that it is in no small part due to the fact that there was some kind of pool running on when they would finally get their heads out of their asses and get together already; there's still one going at the precinct, according to Ryan, who's been dropping hints for a long time) while still making certain that Castle knows that he'll be sorry if he ever hurts her.

Not that he isn't already aware of that.

When they make it up to her apartment, he releases her hand so she can unlock the door, his jacket still draped over her shoulders. He waits until she has the appropriate key in and the door is open before he speaks.

"This was a great night."

It sounds like something a teenage girl might say after prom, but it's the truth. In all his years, he's never been on a better date with anybody. Not with Meredith or Gina or Kyra or _anyone_. Not with any of the women he's been with casually over the years or any of the girls he's even tried to have a little more with (he shudders at the thought of Elli Munroe and _Jacinda_ ).

Kate Beckett is a mystery he's been chasing after for the better part of four years and she is most definitely the most worth it. Her intelligence, beauty, compassion, and so much more make her the woman that he loves and he's sure that he'll never feel this way about anybody else again.

He's especially sure of this when she turns to him with that tongue poking out between her teeth and he grins back at her, leaning in until he's crowding her against the open door, his hands landing flat on the door, on either side of her head.

Kate bites her bottom lips as he gazes into her hazel-green eyes (which are more green than anything right now) and nuzzles his nose against hers, their lips brushing just slightly. Kate's lips curve into a smile as one of her hands raises to brush her fingers over his cheeks and Castle inhales sharply, making her smile even wider. When that tongue swipes out against her bottom lip—and brushes against his in the process—he can't resist leaning in to press his mouth to hers, his own tongue sweeping briefly through her mouth before retreating back, his lips turning up as she nips at him, giggling slightly from the back of her throat.

He echoes the mirth and presses his lips to hers again, before pulling back, lowering his hands to wipe them on his jeans. They're sweating profusely and, frankly, he's embarrassed—though Kate doesn't seem to mind.

"Are you coming in?" she asks, softly, her fingers playing with his color.

"I'm not sure," Castle replies. "I'm usually not the kind of guy that sleeps with the girl on the first date."

He's teasing and she knows that, but she still lifts one brow. "Is that right?" she asks, smiling that smile again and this time he groans.

"Better put that tongue away," he says, warningly, his eyes dark as they bore into hers.

Kate's spark with challenge. "Or what?" she husks, before backing away into her apartment. She sticks her tongue out between her teeth again before she turns and then his eyes are practically glued to her ass as she damn near _sashays_ in the direction of her bedroom, allowing his coat to fall to the ground and leaving her in the slinky red number she wore to dinner. She doesn't look back to see if he's following her because she already knows that he will.

And he does.

 **TBH, this wasn't my best work but the next one will be better, I swear. It's a Becalexis chap titled "I am in love with your eyebrows." Please review this one!**


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